The Poem Is In My

Far Away, Our Dreams Have Nothing To Do With What We Do. The Wind Carries The Night, And Passes On, Aimless.

We Are Captives, Even If Our Wheat Grows Over The Fences/ And Swallows Rise From Our Broken Chains./ We Are Captives Of What We Love, What We Desire, And What We Are.

I Am Patient And Am Waiting For A Profound Revolution In The Consciousness Of The Israelis. The Arabs Are Ready To Accept A Strong Israel With Nuclear Arms - All It Has To Do Is Open The Gates Of Its Fortress And Make Peace.

When I Passed The Age Of 50, I Learned How To Control My Emotions.

On This Earth There Is That Which Deserves Life.